


Bases Loaded

by Reservation_Red



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, Lesbians, Lesbians Everywhere, Other Anime / Manga Yuri cameos, Softball!AU, YumiHisu, YumiKuri centric, lots of relationships, modern!AU, shameless Yuri sports AU, sports!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8625292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reservation_Red/pseuds/Reservation_Red
Summary: Historia came to America as a foreign exchange student and finds her newfound love for America's past time sweetheart, Softball! Oh. She also learns she plays for the other team. Hard not to when you join a softball team full of babes.





	

The metallic bark of the bat echoed throughout the small town as hurried cries followed after. The softball sailed high into the air in an elongated arch as the catcher ripped off her mask, slapping her mitt to her right hand. Her head was craned back, following the ball with her eyes. 

“Got it! Got it!” She bellowed as third baseman jogged up to her, watching the ball reach the peak of its arch. It was so far up that it seemed to almost suspend there as the basemen spotted the catcher, hanging back to give her room. 

Historia could barely pay attention to her host mother as the principal and her discussed her transfer. Her eyes were glued to the softball field down the hill of the school as the ball began its descent. 

“Left, left!” The pitcher bellowed. The runner rounded first base with a dust trial licking at her heels, going in hot for second. She snapped a look at the runner and smacked her mitt around, urging the catcher to hurry it up, but the Popfly had other plans. 

“She’s coming on second!” The second basemen was more antsy as she kept her heel on the corner of the base, holding her glove open as her body was down and ready to snag the runner. 

The catcher’s feet kept dancing around as she repositioned herself a few feet to the left. The runner’s speed faltered as she watched the ball fall right into the catcher’s glove with a loud and dusty impact. 

“Out!” The catcher roared and the team cheered, returning to their positions as the runner slowed down and stopped on second. She clapped her hands together, bowing her head, and took the walk of shame back to the dugout. 

“Good hustle, Hitch! Next time, keep running until I say stop. Don’t slow down and watch the ball!” The coach’s voice was loud and exuberant as Historia watched the player get patted on the back by a woman as she was escorted back into the dugout. 

“Good cover, Mina! Great back up!” The coach kept praising the group while jumping around. “Annie! That was excellent! Good eye on the Popfly!” 

Historia saw a baseball game once at her old school but it wasn’t too exciting. At least not like how the team was down there. 

“Hitch! Get back up to bat! Girls, you’ll have to wait your turn! We need to work on her swing!” The coach put the previous batter back up. 

“Now, you’re hitting the ball too soon, Hitch. It’s carrying—“ 

“Historia,” her host mother called her out of her observations.

“Sorry,” Historia mumbled, glancing back at the desk and seeing her class schedule right before her eyes. It was already filled out. 

Did her host mom choose her electives for her? 

“It’s okay. I just wanted to talk to you about your classes,” she smiled. Her brown eyes were warm as she gestured to the paper. “I know you come from a much bigger school. I know it must’ve had much more opportunities for you there, but, over here, we’re such a small school that we really don’t have much choices. For now, you will be attending Native Studies.”

“Native Studies?” It felt awkward to ask about it because Historia had an inkling it was the study of their culture. Not that she wasn’t interested but it felt too intimate to suddenly be plopped right into a classroom about a culture she had no ties to. 

“Don’t worry, I know the teacher there—she’s my mother’s adoptive sister.” She assured. “She’s a kind woman and I already spoke to her about your situation. I really encourage you to learn it, but if you don’t want to you can discuss it with her. She’ll give you other options.” 

Historia nodded. Though, deep down, she cursed because she knew she would never have the courage to ask to do something else. She didn’t want to disrespect the teacher by saying she was too scared to learn of their culture. 

“How’re you feeling? You seem interested in the softball team. Did you play sports back at home?” The woman brought her hand up to Historia’s shoulder, lightly rubbing it. The act was foreign but it brought a surprising amount of comfort to her. 

“No, ‘fraid not.” She mustered a smile. “It isn’t popular back home. People were more interested in basketball and rugby.”

“Oh, really?” Her host mom laughed. “I never took you for a rugby player!”

Historia flustered a bit, chuckling despite her nervousness as the quiet principal mirthfully scoffed. 

“We might have to recruit her for football next year, then,” he added, causing him and the woman to laugh at the idea. Historia shook her head and went back to watching the softball team from the window as the other two got caught up talking. 

Historia was thankful for the open window as the early spring air carried the voices of the players. 

“C’mon, Hitch, hit something good!” The second baseman teased. 

“I didn’t play all my life! Give me a break!” The girl named Hitch shot back. 

“Just gotta’ straighten out your swing!” Third basemen encouraged. 

“Trying!” 

It was hard to hear the next part but Historia barely caught it. 

“Straight is something Hitch can’t do,” the monotonous voice of the first basemen stated, causing all the girls on the field to howl in laughter. 

“MIKASA!” Hitch cried in embarrassment. 

“Now, now, girls!” The coach intervened. “Hitch needs to focus. C’mon, Hitch! I can feel it! You got this! This is your good hit!” She clapped her hands, rallying Hitch’s attention and pumping her up for the next pitch. 

“Make those girls work!” A different voice snapped. “If they got time to run their mouths then they got time to condition!” 

This made the entire team quiet as all the girls got down and ready, whistling and echoing gameplays. 

The catcher threw the ball to the pitcher, landing in her glove with a crack. The girl jostled the ball around in her hand as she backed up onto the mound. She hooved the ground with her cleats, digging her feet in and kicking up dust as she straightened her back. 

It was almost mesmerizing as the girl lifted her glove and ball up, clasping them together. She held that position for a moment before parting her hands, taking a step back, and, to Historia’s eyes, the ball disappeared the moment before her pitch—the girl was fast, stupidly fast, as she released the pitch in a single windmill motion. Historia couldn’t tell whether the girl ever pitched it until she heard the telltale crack of the bat. 

The coach roared in triumph. 

Historia had no idea what happened except what she saw—Hitch accidentally throwing the bat behind her, whacking the catcher and sending her back onto her rear, and, then, the third baseman falling to the dirt. 

Historia could only watch, waiting for the team to indicate what happened, but they were still for a second too long. 

“Mina!” The catcher was up in a bolt, running to the third basemen who was still on the ground. Everyone on the team threw down their gloves, racing over to third base as the batter was left stunned on the plate. 

“Shit!” The coach hissed, jogging over. Another person Historia didn’t see came walking from the dugouts and was the last to join the group. 

“Move!” The small person yelled and caused the group to part except for the catcher who held the girl named Mina. 

It was hard to make the details out from up on the second story of the high school. Historia edged closer as the principal stood up, going over to his window and peeking out at the sound of a curse. 

“What happened,” he whispered to nobody. 

“Get an ice pack!” The catcher bellowed and the batter was the first to go running to what appeared to be a storage shed attached to the dugouts. 

Historia waited with the principal, wondering if everything was okay. 

“She needs room to breathe,” the coach said, ushering people to give room to the third baseman and catcher. “Annie, I need to look at her. Give me some room to get down there—thanks.” 

It was quiet for a few moments but Hitch reemerged. 

“Coach! The First Aid isn’t in here!” 

“WHAT!? WHO THE FUCK TOOK IT!?” The small person roared. 

“Oh shi—I mean, oh no,” second basemen groaned and then cowering when the small person strode to her. She practically shrank in the man’s presence. 

“What do you mean, ‘oh shit’?” 

“Um, well, uh, last week, uh, track had an accident and had to borrow ours… um, they lost the key to their shed or left it somewhere or something…” 

“Typical,” he clicked.

“Ah! Mina!” The woman coach gasped. “Are you okay?”

Historia strained to listen but she didn’t hear anything. Either Mina was stirring and didn’t say anything or it was very weak. 

“That doesn’t look good,” the principal muttered before turning to Historia, “miss Reiss, would you please bring a first aid down there?”

“Uh—“

“I have one in my desk.” He went to his chair and sat down before pulling out a drawer and fishing out a red box. Historia was a little impressed at how prepared the principal was. “Please, bring it as quick as you can.”

“I will bring the rig around,” her host mom said. “After you bring it down, you can just cross the black top down there and we can go home. Okay? I will see you down there—ah, it was good seeing you Erwin!”

“You, too, Carla.” Erwin sat back down and nodded to Historia. “I will be seeing you next week.”

Historia took the kit and fidgeted before stupidly bowing. Why did she bow?

“Y-You, too, sir,” she backed up and spun around, fleeing out the door, because she wasn’t sure how she was going to introduce herself to the team. 

“Oh, Miss Reiss,” he stopped her short of the door, “welcome to Shiganshina. I hope you enjoy it here.” 

Historia only nodded and ran away when she could. She didn’t even really know how to navigate the school as she ran down one hall, almost bumping into a teacher. 

“Ah, ‘scuse me,” she apologized, hauling the kit with her down the sloping hallway. It was super long until she reached the bottom where the lunch room was. She stopped at the bottom of it, glancing around, and saw another similar hall right next to it that sloped down to a lower level. At the bottom, she saw the glass doors leading outside to the hill above the softball field. 

Historia chewed her bottom lip, trying to think on what to say but she reasoned it didn’t matter. Someone was hurt… 

She raced down the hall and shoved open the doors and ran outside until she was at the decline. Again, she was uncertain on how to approach them—the doors slammed shut behind her and echoed against the school’s walls, alerting the team below. All their gazes were on her as she froze up. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” she whispered under her breath as she swallowed her apprehension and jogged down the hill, but she had made a grave mistake. Just as she began she had underestimated how steep the hill actually was as her legs fought to keep up as she flew down the hill, losing her stability with every step as gravity threatened to trip her and send her to her doom, but, miraculously, she made it to the bottom. However, she couldn’t stop to a halt. She had to run her momentum out, but there was no room—it was either crash into a chain link fence, some rusty wooden bleachers, or the narrow side of the dugout.

There was no time!

“RUN, FORREST, RUN!” Second basemen laughed. As insult to injury, Historia slammed against the metal dugout like the concussion of a drum roll. 

“Are you okay!?” The girl named Hitch called out and Historia wished she actually got a concussion so she wouldn’t have to bare the humiliation. 

“Who is that?”

“I don’t know, but they really biffed it!” 

Historia hid her bruised pride as she peeled herself from the dugout and came around, smiling brightly. 

“Principal Smith sent me with a first aid for Mina!” She held the kit in front of her to the nearest girl, Hitch. 

“My eyes,” Sasha whispered, shielding herself from the beauty that was Historia Reiss, and earning a painful, boney jab in the ribs from Mikasa’s elbow. 

“Oh,” Historia realized Mikasa was here. She was Carla’s adopted daughter. They had only met two days ago but they got along fine enough. “Hey, Mikasa.”

“Hey,” she waved as Hitch hurriedly took the kit and brought it to Hanji as the woman began to break open an ice pack for the dazed girl. 

“Here you go, Mina,” she handed it over to her. There was a big, darkening bruise on her forehead as a goose egg began to form. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m feeling rubber ducky.” She muttered. 

“Perfect!” Hanji smiled, standing up. “Time for an EMT trip!”

“Practice is over now,” the man from before was staring at Historia. “Clean out and pack up.”

“Mikasa! Who is this!?” Sasha gawked, gesturing all over Historia. 

“She’s our exchange student. Carla is hosting her.” 

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!” Sasha wailed. “NOBODY LEAVES OUT THEY’RE HOSTING A CUTE AUSTRALIAN CHICK!” 

Mikasa ignored her as she went to the dugout and began to pack up. Hanji easily picked up Mina, carrying her to her pick up as the catcher ripped off her gear and tailed after the two. This left the entire team to just stare at Historia. 

“Who’re you?” The pitcher asked. Historia only knew it was her because of her voice and how lanky she was. 

“My name is Historia Reiss. It’s nice to meet you,” she kept smiling because the moment it fell she knew she’d make a wreck of herself. All these people staring at her was making her almost crack. 

The girl went into the dugout, grabbing her duffel bag, and, then, as if remembering she initiated a conversation with Historia, she tipped her hat at her. 

“Yo, Reiss,” the lanky girl nodded at her, walking away from her, “you got a nosebleed.”

“EH!?”


End file.
